


Losing My Religion

by furbypocalypse



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Catholic School, Child Abuse, Cocaine, Depersonalization, Depression, Derealization, Drug Use, Drugs gone wrong, Drunk Sex, F/M, First Time, Homophobia, Luke doesn't know how to be comfortable, M/M, Michael is uncomfortable, Overstimulation, Past Abuse, Religion, Rimming, SO MUCH BODY WORSHIP, Subspace, Unrequited Love, adderall, look at these fucking tags why cant we have nice things, oh I forgot, this is so fucking emotional i'll probably cry a little
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-20 10:24:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4783901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/furbypocalypse/pseuds/furbypocalypse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Luke is the son of a preacher and Luke is Michael's religion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. That's Me in the Corner

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thesoulsailor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesoulsailor/gifts).



> Stick with me, it's only the first chapter. I've got a lot planned.

Michael’s fingers tapped on thin wood, his chin balanced on the palm of his free hand. In his sixth and final class of the day, they were provided with the entire period to work (despite the fact that no one would actually do so, just sleep, listen to music or text each other from across the room.) Unlocking his phone to present the time, Michael saw that there was still ten minutes left and let his head drop out of his palm, hitting his desk with a low thud. Some students glanced over, but the majority were accustomed to this behaviour by now.

Less than a minute later, a folded piece of paper struck the back of his bowed head, making his nostrils flare as he raised it to look over his shoulder at Calum, with his feet propped up on the chair in front of him and a smug grin on his face.

Bending down to reach the paper on the ground, Michael picked it up and glanced at his teacher, who still sat in the same position, staring blankly at his computer. Unfolding the paper, he noticed scrawled writing and straightened back up, trying to focus his eyes to make out the unbelievably messy script.

‘ _what are we doing after school ?_ ’

Michael ran a hand through his faded purple and blue hair before digging a black pen out of his bag. He’d already determined what he was going to do after school, but it didn’t differ much from every week day, apart from Wednesdays.

‘ _Picking Luke up, what do you think?_ ’ he scribbled back, folding the paper neatly again. Turning around, he flicked the paper back at Calum, watching him take his feet down to sit up straight and unfold the paper. This was followed by an inevitable roll of his eyes.

After another odd number of minutes, he was hit with another folded sheet of paper, only much harder this time. He didn’t bother looking back, only grabbed the second paper and unfolded it.

‘ _have you sucked his dick yet ?_ ’

A heavy sigh passed Michael’s lips as he balled up the paper, thankful for the immediate ring of the bell to signal the end of the period, and the day. He smiled softly, tossing the paper into the recycling bin as he scooped up his bag and fought his way to the door.

Calum caught him by the back of the shirt, allowing him to catch up. They walked together wordlessly for under ten seconds before they were greeted by a mess of curly hair and a wide smile. The black haired boy’s face broke into a grin of the same caliber, and Michael was automatically the third wheel again.

There were the obvious stares as they walked, those who didn’t approve of Calum and Ashton’s relationship watching uneasily, eyes narrowed. Michael trailed behind, scratching his eyebrow piercing and replacing his earbuds. He knew it wasn’t the couple’s intention to disclude him, but being together was a virtue, with Ashton being a year older and preparing for standardized testing. Calum made such an effort to see him, but between working, studying, and completing assignments for his advanced courses, Ashton never had a second availible.

By the time they had gotten to the parking lot, Michael was regretting his sweater and jeans, and took a discarded t-shirt from the trunk of his car. Calum and Ashton leaned up against his car, smiling into each other’s mouths and nudging kisses between hushed words. Ashton jumped as someone a few cars down honked at them, holding up their middle finger behind the windshield. He pulled away, a pained expression on his face as he looked down and pressed his face into Calum’s chest. While Calum raked a hand through his boyfriend’s unruly hair, he glared over the top of Ashton’s head, his dark eyes narrowing.

Calum, who had spent so much time and effort making sure that their relationship wouldn’t be bothered by outsiders, still resented anyone who had anything negative to say. Of course, being anything other than straight wasn’t necessarily encouraged where they lived (or anywhere, really.)

A few minutes after the parking lot had cleared out, the three of them took their places in Michael’s car: Calum in the passenger’s seat and Ashton in the back, leaning up with his head resting on Calum’s seat.

The ride to Calum’s house was virtually silent, aside from Ashton’s occasionally shuffling among all of the clothes in the back of the car and Sublime droning on in the background. It took less than five minutes before they were out of the car, Calum slipping his arm around his boyfriend’s narrow waist and hauling him into the house. The last thing Michael heard before driving away was Ashton’s captivating laugh, muffled against Calum’s shirt.

It was another ten minutes of Sublime before Michael’s second stop, cringing at all of the white button-ups, the boys in ties and the girls in skirts. The majority of them glanced over, judgemental stares passing over their plain faces. Michael didn’t know why they still wasted their time; he was there to pick Luke up four days a week and still arrived each time with his music blaring and his hair equally as bright and skewed.

Pulling over to the side of the road, Michael got out and laughed under his breath as he saw Luke.

The blonde had already shed his jacket and tie, both hanging loosely over his arm. As he turned Michael saw the sun reflect off a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Despite the heat, his hair remained flawless, swept up and just slightly to the side. His lips parted to reveal a blinding smile composed of straight teeth, as white as one could possibly hope for. It wasn’t long before he had ditched the group of friends he’d been standing with for Michael, jogging across the lawn towards his car.

Luke paused after reaching the passenger side door, resting his folded arms on top of the car. They stared at each other for a while, eyebrows raised and half-assed smirks playing at their lips. Once one of them broke into laughter (which had always been Luke), Michael muttered his usual ‘get in, asswipe,’ and they pulled away from the Catholic school with nothing but each other and melancholy music on their minds.

As soon as they were a block away and no more students were inside, Luke was climbing into the back seat, lanky legs obstructing Michael’s view. Michael shoved them out of his line of vision and the blonde boy hiccuped out another laugh. The purple-haired boy couldn’t help but use the rearview mirror to his advantage as Luke unbuttoned his shirt, digging through everything to find the black and white t-shirt he’d discarded that morning. When the blonde’s eyes flicked up to the mirror, Michael directed his attention back towards the road, hands tightening on the wheel. He supposed Luke had seen him, but that was nothing out of the usual. Michael had given up on not staring two weeks after they met.

Once Luke had made it safely back into the front seat, Michael sped up, one hand gripping the wheel and the other tapping against dash. Luke sang along quietly, still not confident in his voice after years and years of singing in the church choir.

He couldn’t help but take the long way back to Luke’s, 

eyes trained on the road as he drove along the countryside. On the first day he met the blonde boy, Michael wouldn’t have guessed that they’d be led here. He’d been so judgemental of Luke purely because of his wealth and his parents. Compared to Michael, Luke had it made. His grades were in perfect shape and would most likely provide him a scholarship to any college of his choice, and his parents were so proud it made him want to retch. Michael was thankful that his parents didn’t care much for him. It made it easier to fuck up.

It was half an hour until they entered Luke’s neighborhood, what Michael liked to call “glorified white paradise.” (It was gated, of course.) They’d both reached to turn the music down but both of them had pulled back. It was left at full volume until the blonde’s house was in sight.

There was a silent goodbye shared within the minute that Michael and Luke sat in front of his house, both staring at each other. Hugs were out of bounds (Luke didn’t want to look anything less than painfully straight), and a spoken goodbye was too awkward (everything spoken aloud made Michael uncomfortable.)

After minutes of waiting, staring, Michael spoke. “Meter’s running, dumbass, go home.” Though, he said it with the most endearment he could possibly muster. Luke smiled softly and got out of the car, struggling with the length of his legs to the point where he almost hit the pavement.

The last clear thing he saw was Luke’s long legs making their way up the stone path to the front door, his hand raising in a wave. After he pulled away, the sky and ground were both just a blurred mix of greens and blues. Black took over as soon as he was home, shielded by a blanket hanging over his window and twenty one pilots.


	2. The Hint of the Century

The next day, Michael stood up after being lying awake for 20 minutes. His shaking knees failed him and his body fell to the floor. Michael remained there for two hours staring at the ceiling before deciding he wasn’t going to go to school that day.

 

He hated Wednesdays anyway.

 

-

 

Two days flew by. He hadn’t completed a single assignment, nor took notes during any of the lectures he sat through. Michael had a habit of staring blankly past the teacher, eyes locked on the chalkboard. Headphones were useless in account of the paradox in which he wanted to listen to music, and although he was sick of listening to the same songs on repeat, he couldn’t bring himself to listen to anything else.

 

Saturday had been the first day he’d voluntarily woken up before noon in years. Michael was showered, dressed, and in his car by 10:45, sunglasses disguising the dark circles surrounding his eyes.

 

Twenty minutes of driving and tapping his thumbs against the steering wheel led him to Calum’s house, the driveway empty of cars signifying it was safe to walk in without bothering to knock. After all, there (sadly) wasn’t anything Michael hadn’t seen before.

 

Despite expecting his best friend butt-ass-naked, he entered to discover Ashton alone in the kitchen, perched on the counter with his thin fingers wrapped around a mug shaped like an own. He watched Michael over the mug, hair flopping down over his eyes and causing him to giggle, thus ending their silent staring contest.

 

“Calum?” Michael questioned, taking a few steps into the kitchen. He stole the mug from Ashton’s hands while the boy was distracted by attempting to blow strands of hair out of his eyes.

 

“Bed.” he answered, frowning as he watched Michael swallow at least half of the mug, handing it over.

 

“Too much milk,” Michael complained, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “‘s gone cold.” Ashton shrugged and retreated to Calum’s bedroom, emerging five minutes later with a half-asleep Calum, dressed sloppily as if Ashton had done it for him. Although, it was likely that this was the case; waking Calum could be compared to waking a sleeping bear: lots of grumbling and could result in injury. Ashton was the only one who could ever make it out alive.

 

Getting in the car was a challenge in itself, which ended in Michael and Calum fighting about how the front seat belonged to Luke and only Luke when the four were together. He didn’t see why Calum had a problem; this wasn’t news to him, and he’d normally want to be sprawled out in the back seat with his boyfriend. Eventually, Calum gave up and climbed into the back seat, slamming the door in the process to remind Michael that he was still angry.

 

The drive to Luke’s house was virtually silent, apart from Ashton speaking in whispers to Calum, most likely in an attempt to calm him. It worked (as always). When they pulled to the side of the street, Michael glanced through the passenger side’s window and wasn’t shocked to see Luke, sitting on one of the two rocking chairs on the porch, his father absent. Setting down the book he was reading (which Michael easily identified as a copy of The Old Testament), he got to his feet and retrieved a jean jacket from the other chair.

 

As they pulled away, it was like this: Calum and Ashton wrapped around each other in the back seat, Luke with his mile-long legs crossed in the passenger seat with an aux cord in one hand and the other tugging at his necklace. It was bronze, engraved with “Saint Christopher, Help Us” in a circle surrounding a man or an angel, something Michael could never figure out.

 

They drove along the countryside for nearly an hour before Calum and Ashton began kissing each other, which everyone knew would lead to making out. As things escalated, Luke pulled his knees to his chest, staring hard at the road in front of them while turning the music up until it reached a deafening point. Michael couldn’t complain.

 

Luke had always been just slightly bothered by Calum and Ashton’s relationship, though he never voiced his opinion. He often had to leave the room when things between the two would get more heated, something that only bothered Michael when it bothered Luke.

 

It was when Calum elicited a moan from Ashton by pressing him against the car door and tugging Ashton’s earlobe between his teeth that Luke snapped, muting the music and pressing his palms over his ears. Michael glanced over but Ashton was already staring, a worried look on his face. Calum, however, wasn’t as considerate and certainly wasn’t concerned about what Luke thought of him, and continued to press kisses to his boyfriend’s skin.

 

“Give it a rest, Calum.” Michael muttered.  Calum only responded by kicking the back of Michael’s seat, his lips giving way to a wicked grin.

 

Things died down for only a few minutes before Calum was at it again, hands gripping Ashton’s hips and pressing biting kisses along his jawline. Despite trying his hardest to avoid making Luke uncomfortable, another moan escaped Ashton’s lips. Luke cleared his throat loudly and focused his attention on his feet. There was no pause this time, and it became evident that Calum’s intention wasn’t to make Ashton feel good, it was to make Luke feel terrible. He continued on, holding Ashton still by his waist and leaving a trail of bruised skin in his wake.

 

“For the love of God, would you two quit it?” Luke snapped, turning around in his seat to see Calum glancing up from Ashton’s skin and Ashton giving him the most apologetic look he could muster.

 

“Might wanna watch what you say, Lukey-boy. Don’t you remember? Thou must not say’th the Lord’s name in vain?”

 

“You know that belittling my religion is so, so much worse than how you view Catholics, right?”

 

“Where the hell did you find this one, Mikey?”

 

Michael was accustomed to Calum and Luke’s bickering, but never before had Calum questioned Michael and Luke’s friendship. Impulsively, Michael slammed on the brakes, causing everyone to jolt forward and the wheels to screech, a cloud of dirt to kicking up into the air from beneath the tires.

 

Everyone stopped mid-sentence, mid-snarky comment, mid-disgusted look, mid breath. Even Ashton, kind Ashton who always put an end to every fight, seemed to swallow his own tongue.

 

Michael’s grip on the wheel tightened, inhaling and exhaling slowly through his nose. Michael didn’t snap often, but when he did, his eye started twitching and he remained deathly quiet. Anyone who dared to touch him soon wished they hadn’t - aside from Luke, that is.

 

“Michael--” he started, reaching out to touch his shoulder, but Michael flinched away instinctively, staring out at the road in from of them.

 

“Stop it.” he breathed out, resting his head down on the steering wheel. He was ready to get out of the car, get fresh air into his lungs, air that wasn’t thick with “where’d you find this one?”, though Luke had managed to get a hand onto his arm, reaching up to run through his hair and give a light scratch to his scalp. It made goosebumps break out across Michael’s skin, his blood to freeze in his veins.

 

“Are you okay? Do you want me to drive?” Luke asked, clearing his throat as he pulled away, hand leaving Michael’s hair as he sat back in his seat.

 

“I’m fine.” Michael started the car and began to drive, slowing to a creeping speed as he rounded corners.

 

For the rest of their drive, Calum didn’t say a word, nor kiss Ashton. Though Luke tried to start conversation with both Ashton and Michael, the banter always died down within a minute of it starting. It was awkward, to say the least, but Michael didn’t have much time to notice. He remained focused on the memory of Luke’s uncut fingernails scratching along his scalp, the feeling still hovering over him the the ghost of a loved one who wasn’t ready to let go.

 

Soon enough, Calum and Ashton were both returned to Calum’s. Hours upon hours had been spent getting lost, pulling over to glance at mountains miles away, following trails down to ponds that were lost long ago and thick with weeds. Upon getting out, Calum wrapped his arm around his boyfriend’s waist, pressing fingertips lightly into his side. Ashton walked with his head hung low, leaning Calum’s way as a positive tip of a magnet might to it’s negative match.

 

The remainder of the car ride was more silent than it had ever been between the two, so potent he thought he’d suffocate. It was a relief when he’d pulled into Luke’s neighborhood, slowing to at least 5 mph so he could drown in the sweet silence just a few seconds longer.

 

The clock came to a dismal 8:58, signaling for him to come to a stop in front of Luke’s “humble” abode. If Luke wasn’t in his house by nine, his father would have not only Luke’s head, but Michael’s as well.

 

Luke reached for the handle on the door, not willing to shatter the silence. He was, however, silent as he held onto his necklace, staring down at it. It took him only a few seconds to look back up, slipping the pendant over his head and around Michael’s.

 

“No, no no no -” Michael started, grabbing hold of the necklace and preparing to remove it from over his head. Luke wrapped a hand around his list.

 

"Life does not exist in an abundance of possessions,” Luke sighed, shaking his head as he opened the car door. “Luke 12:15.”

 

“You know I’m not religious, Luke.” Michael glanced between Luke and the pendant. Was it a man or an angel?

 

“You don’t have to be.”

 

The porch light flickered on as he watched Luke disappear into the house. He remained outside for over an hour, watching Luke’s ghost dash up the steps.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I appreciate comments and kudos if you're kind enough to leave them! 
> 
> You can follow me on Tumblr at cliffordevil and on Twitter @thursdcy ! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading !!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to the one and only Carly Mellois. I know you don't want anything to do with me, but I'm sorry and I understand now. You said that when I did to let you know, but I suppose this is my way of doing that. (If you ever see it.) 
> 
> As always, I'd love feedback but you don't have to leave anything if you don't want to. Thank you so much for getting this far.
> 
> my twitter is @thursdcy and my tumblr is cliffordevil or candleslut  
> i was previously mucasclemmings on tumblr but i still have the url saved so i might go back to that


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